Timberlake revisited
10/09/2007 06:29 a.m.
A story began on this day. It had been six weeks since I last visited the Bob Timberlake Gallery. I found a sense of warmth and comfort that day, as I read the comments and visualized each paintings short story compiled from 70 individual events and images. For someone who pretends to be a writer, it was an unforgettable trip into rich rural memories that only those that have lived in a small town can identify with.

It was September 1st, as I came back from the farmers market I stopped at the Riverwood Coffee Shop in the Timberlake Gallery, to get a cup of coffee. The sign was still up for the 70th Birthday exhibition, even though it was due to end on the 31st of August. Much to my delight, it was not taken down just yet. The Gallery decided to leave the exhibit for one more day.

Frank Stoner introduced himself with a smile. He was one of the primary persons responsible for the running of the gallery. He unlocked the door and opened it wide. As I walked in, 70 helloes greeted me, welcoming my return. I was not expecting to have such a surge of emotion. For a moment, all I could do was stand and smile as the pleasant warmth of growing up in the south rushed nonstop from a hundred rich memories of my own. Frank and I talked for a moment, about Riverwood, where much of Bob's work was done, about Highrock Lake, and about Potts Creek, where I live. The natural beauty and wild life there, is like no where else on the Lake. He told me he would go there sometimes just to see some of the birds and other wild life. Frank shook my hand and left me to enjoy Bob's images one last time.

It was then that I found a beginning in what others might say is the end. It is a story and memory unique in its own right. I can tell this story again and feel the same relax in warm bath water glow. Those images and that experience will stay with me always.

I came to the realization that Bob's paintings served the same purpose as paintings in old Indian ruins and burial grounds or Egyptian Hieroglyphics. They recount events and a way of life that soon will not be remembered that way again. His work is a reminder of the grandiose simplicity of rural southern life. I think that is a part of his work's charm, and what attracts so many people to either look at it or acquire it.

As I walked out the door of the coffee shop, I could not help but look back and say a silent thank you for the experience, and think about the 70 images I left behind as they said an amiable good bye. As a collection they will be gone, but as a perfect memory they will always live on.